The Emptiness Within
by dontmissthis
Summary: Maura and Jane seemingly have it all until a twist of fate threatens to break them. No major character deaths.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Okay, I DID do the research so this would be as accurate as humanly possible without getting bogged down. This is fiction; it doesn't necessarily represent my views on things so I do understand if you disagree with the decisions. This is dark. And honestly, pretty fucking sad. Can't say I didn't cry. **

**And, I've changed my mind:**

**Odd chapters (1, 3, 5, etc) will be flashbacks that are out of order.  
**

**Even chapters (2, 4, 6, etc) will be present day that ARE in order.  
**

**It'll make more sense as you read along. Ask me if it doesn't make sense.  
**

…

Jane clutches Maura's hand, praying to God that this turns out to better than they're expecting it to be. But deep down, she knows it won't. When Maura says the chance of good news is slim, the chance of good news is slim. She's never wrong.

She hears Maura's staccato intake of breath as the door clicks open and the doctor walks in. A man no older than forty, hair peppered gray and a face with more wrinkles than someone his age should have. That comes with the territory, though. You don't deliver news like this every day and come out unscathed.

He sits in his chair—smiling as much as this outcome allows—and looks at them. Maura is holding her wife's hand, the other hand anxiously flitting against her lips. Jane sits in the hard leather chair—her prayers never faltering—as her free fingers tap a steady beat on the top of her knee. They're younger than he and yet, they have managed to accomplish the only things he's always wanted. Love. Family. Happiness.

He hopes this won't be the thing to unfairly take those things from them. They wouldn't deserve that. No one does.

He pulls out the file and puts on his glasses before finally getting settled. Before he can even speak, Jane knows what's coming. She's a detective, after all.

She runs her hand down the side of her face before clearing her throat. "How bad?"

No nonsense. Straight to the chase. He realizes he can grant her one comfort and be just as honest with her. He shakes his head as he briefly looks between their faces. "Not the best news, I'm afraid."

Jane squeezes Maura's hand a little tighter as she takes in a heavy breath. Maura was right. She's always right.

He scans across the paper in front of him before speaking. "Maura, I'm sure you've already ventured a guess since you're a doctor, but I'm going to lay it all out here for you," his eyes dart to Jane, "just so we all know what to expect and what's to come."

Jane nods, holding her tongue. Maura doesn't guess. She _never _guesses. How is he going to know what's best for them if he doesn't even _know _them?

He leans back in his chair and presses his fingertips together. "Maura, you have inflammatory breast cancer." He adds nothing else. It's only fair to throw one horrible thing out at a time.

She clinches her jaw. She never guesses, but she was leaning towards this conclusion. Her breast had become red, swollen, and itchy over the past 36 days. She should've known.

Instead, she chalked it up to unpleasant side-effects of becoming pregnant.

They do say doctors make the worst patients, after all.

She knows the statistics, the characteristics of this particular cancer. It progresses rapidly, often in a matter of weeks or months—sometimes even before the symptoms begin to show. She nods and swallows thickly. "Which stage?"

Her ability to form a sentence any more complex left as soon as he uttered the words she dreaded to hear.

He takes a deep breath and bites at his cheek. "Stage 3C."

Maura's hand goes limp in Jane's grasp. This can't be good. She looks from him to Maura and back. "I don't…what does that mean? Is that bad?"

"It could be worse. Stage 3C refers to how advanced and widespread it has become," he briefly looks down at the paper, "in Maura's case, it has expanded to 14 of the axillary lymph nodes, and a few of the lymph nodes below the collarbone." He sympathetically frowns. "As well as to the skin of the breast."

Maura's eyes shut as she tries to think of the things she needs to ask, the things she needs to know so she can determine the odds. Frustratingly, she sighs. Her mind is blank. Empty.

Save for the word 'cancer' reverberating through her like it was the very definition of her existence.

She almost laughs at how true that really is. Doesn't it define who she is now? Won't it always?

Cancer patient. Cancer survivor. Perhaps even a cancer victim if the odds are too greatly stacked against her.

No matter which way she goes, the word will never escape her. For the remainder of her life it will follow her. Precede her. It could even be the only word used to describe her in death.

She's never really thought of how morbid one word could really be.

Her eyes finally flick open as she gathers herself; tries to be optimistic. "What is the Bloom Richardson score? The hormone-receptor status?"

He takes a deep breath. Neither of these answers are good. "The Bloom Richardson score," he looks at Jane, "determines how rapidly the cancer is progressing. The hormone-receptor status tells us whether or not estrogen and progesterone are fueling the cancer cells' growth."

Jane thinks she understands well enough and nods. "Okay."

He looks back at Maura and taps his pen against the desk. He'll never get used to this. "The Bloom-Richardson score was an 8 and the hormone-receptor status was positive."

Maura bites her lip. It's as bad as she had predicted. She sees the confusion flit across Jane's face and turns to explain. It'd be best coming from her anyway. "My score is an 8…the worst is a 9."

Jane's hand grows sweaty in hers and weakly nods. "So it's spreading pretty damn fast?"

Maura's hazel eyes begin to water, but she still fights to smile as to not let onto how grim this really is. "Precisely."

Jane doesn't buy it. Maura's smiles can't even lie. "What about the positive receptor thing?"

Maura finally looks down at the ground. "It means the estrogen and progesterone are causing the cancer cells to multiply more quickly." She takes a deep breath as a tear rolls down her cheek before looking back up at Jane. "Because I'm pregnant, I have more of those hormones being produced than I regularly would—only serving to increase the rate of growth."

Jane fights the tightness in the chest and throat. She can see the terror shining through Maura's eyes. If Maura is terrified, then she needs to be brave. She shifts her legs as she sits back and looks at him.

"What do we do?"

He sighs. "Normally when someone who is pregnant develops cancer, we wait until the fourth month to start chemotherapy to reduce the effects on the fetus." He looks at Maura—sorrow in his eyes—and back at Jane. "Quite frankly, we don't have the two months to wait."

Jane's aunt had developed cancer several years ago. She knew the process, what was done. Certainly they could do something else. "What about surgery? Can't you do that to buy us some more time?"

He shakes his head. "No. This form of cancer is very aggressive. If we did a mastectomy first and waited for the chemotherapy, the chances of developing recurring inflammatory breast cancer increases tenfold."

Jane fights a losing battle with her tears. "There's nothing else we can do?"

"It's already spread to the lymph nodes. We can't risk it spreading to the organs…she needs the chemotherapy."

She takes in a deep breath as her hands start to tremble. "What about the baby?"

He pulls off glasses and drops them to the table. He'd rather be anywhere than this. Rather say anything than this. "You can risk birth defects, miscarriage, or stillbirth by going forward with the treatment during the first trimester. It doesn't _always _happen, but the odds are definitely not in your favor." He swallows thickly and leans back in his chair. "Or, you can have an elective termination of the fetus."

An audible sob forces its way from Maura's lips as her fingernails dig into Jane's hand from clutching so tightly. The tried for so long—for over ten months to get pregnant. Surely this can't be thrust onto them after a struggle as hard and long as that. It would be…cruel. But that's often the way it goes, isn't it?

Jane tries to stay strong. Stoic. But he sees right through it. His eyes briefly drop as he shakes his head before looking back up. "I know this isn't an easy decision. Really, I do. I'll give you a couple of days to think about it, but we really can't wait any longer than that."

Maura's outwardly sobbing now and Jane drops her head into her hands, pushing against her temples as hard as she can.

That's her child in there. Growing, developing. _Living._

Two months and four days in, and she already loves it. How could she not? That baby is a part of her. Of them. It's family.

Who is she to play God? To choose if someone gets to live or die? To determine if a life of hardship and struggle is better than no life at all? Could she really expect them to make it through _this_ only to then raise a child who might be in excruciating pain every single day because of their selfishness?

No.

She can't do that. She can't chance that. She knows this is the hardest thing they'll ever do, but she can't be selfish and have their child suffer for it. She can't. Deep down, she knows that's what Maura thinks, too, and that's why she's crying so hard.

Not because of the cancer, even though they both that's a horrific hurdle in itself.

But Maura's crying because she already knows the unspoken decision they've came to and it's killing her, even though she knows it's best.

Ironic isn't it? Sparing someone you love from pain by hurting them.

Jane's tears slide down her cheeks and into her palms pressed against her face. She feels Maura's hand rub her back for comfort, even though she's not the one with cancer. Not the one that carries their child. Not the one that will feel the physical emptiness within that's left after that child is gone.

The click of the door signals that they are alone, so Jane stands—not even bothering to wipe her eyes. She drops on her knees in front of Maura's chair and presses her cheek against the top of Maura's thighs. Her arms wrap around Maura's calves and she holds on as if it's the only thing keeping Maura from drifting away.

She loves Maura. _Needs _her.

And if she can't hold on to her and fight for her and keep her here, she'll be the one left with nothing. The one left without a child and without a wife. The one left with an emptiness no one could ever fill. She won't let this win. She won't let this take Maura from her, too.

She finally stands and Maura follows—her weight immediately collapsing against Jane as she molds them into the embrace they've perfected throughout the years. Maura's arms around Jane's waist, Jane's long arms wrapping around Maura's shoulders—enveloping her, reassuring her, loving her.

Maura's cries echo against her chest and she presses a kiss against the crown of light colored hair.

She knows they'll never be the same after this, but they'll still be _here. _Still be here together.

And together means _when _all of this is over, they can try again.

They _will_ try again.

Because Jane will be there for her. Through the surgeries and chemicals getting pushed through her body, she'll be there. And they'll get through that just like they'll get through this.

A little worse for wear, but they'll make it.

They always make it.

Hopefully the same holds true for this.

…..

…..

**I just fucked with my own feelings. I hate myself and I'm sure you hate me, too.**

**But, anyway. Yes, I know there are other ways to treat cancer during pregnancy, but not with this specific type—especially when it's already that advanced. And yes, it spreads that quickly. **

**And no, Maura probably wouldn't have caught it even though she's a superfreak smartypants. This kind is just that hard to catch—which is made even harder when it develops during pregnancy. People also face the dilemma of what's best for the baby under these circumstances, too. Many choose this, others are very opposed. **

**Once again, sorry for fucking with your feels. ); Please review if your emotions didn't kill you, I'd be happy to know what you think about this and if you'd like to see some more in this 'verse.  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Okay, I decided to continue this. The chapters will be snapshots that are in no particular order. I have at least 6 chapter ideas, so plan on this being a longer fic that might go on forever. **

**Odd chapters (1, 3, 5, etc) will be flashbacks that are out of order.  
**

******Even chapters (2, 4, 6, etc) will be present day that ARE in order. **  


…

They stand at the bottom step of a dilapidated stone building, dust swirling around their feet and sweat rolling down their skin. Jane gently grabs Maura's hand and looks over at her.

Besides the few extra wrinkles on her face, she looks exactly like they did when they had first met. Her light hair reaching barely past her shoulders and styled straight—still not long enough for the curls Maura loved so dearly. Even in the sweltering heat, she made sure to wear nothing sleeveless. Not due to her own embarrassment of her scars, because she wore them proudly as a survivor. She only chose to hide them as a way of protecting others from their own discomfort with the sight of them.

Nevertheless, she was still just as beautiful as she always had been.

Jane pushes her aviators on top of her head before smiling and rubbing her fingers across pale knuckles. "You sure you wanna do this with _me_? I tend to be pretty immature without any encouragement," she says with a wink.

Maura fights the sting of tears as she smiles. "I've wanted to do this with you for years, Jane. I've never been surer of anything in my entire life."

Jane laughs as they begin to walk up the three steps. "That sounded like a hyperbolization to me, Doctor Isles."

By the way her heart is pounding and the way she can't seem to stop smiling, Maura knows it isn't. Her whole life—every single thing that has happened to her has been leading up to this. Leading up to being here.

Here with Jane at her side.

They walk through the door and up to the tiny room on the right. Jane's hands start to sweat and grow clammy as she vainly tries to calm her nerves. This is it. It's finally happening.

They had waited until a year had passed since Maura's test results came back clean. That night, Maura curled up around her in bed and told a story of how she had survived a war waging inside of her body. A war she was afraid she wouldn't win.

She went on to say the war she had won reminded her of the wars she had seen during her time in Africa—neither was a war she was certain she'd make it out of alive.

But, she had made it through both. A little worse for wear, but alive.

Now wanted to help someone else.

More specifically, she wanted to help a child.

A child battling malnutrition. A child trying to survive unimaginable loss and a life without love.

She'd seen it all—the absolute worst things any one should see during her time there. She wanted so desperately to help, even if she could only save one.

After her late night admission, she looked up at Jane—eyes filled with hope and longing. That's all it took. They filed the papers the very next day and waited.

And waited.

They started to worry.

But after waiting six terribly long months, they _finally _received the papers in the mail. Maura had cried, and so had Jane—after everything in the last few years, she no longer tried to hide her emotions. They'd been beaten down and broken—watched each other struggle through the worse. There were no longer any barriers between them. She freely cried into Maura's neck, while she did the same into Jane's.

No ill-timed disease could take this from them.

No mishaps, no complications.

It was real.

It was happening.

They flew down to South Africa—the only country in Africa to allow same sex couples to adopt—and drove to one of the poorer cities in the Thabo district to get their son.

_Their son. _

Jane watches in awe as Maura speaks Afrikaans so effortlessly with the receptionist. It had only taken her a little over a week to learn the entire language.

It had taken Jane six months to learn a handful of short phrases.

The woman leads them through rows of dingy beds stacked closely together—half clothed children jumping up to excitedly watch them pass. Jane knows it's all Maura can do to not take half of them with her.

Hell, it's all she can do to not help steal the other half.

They get ushered into a small, drab room in the back with a lone chair. There are no windows, just a solid metal door. Jane motions for Maura to sit down, but she shakes her head. "I'd rather stand. I don't…I don't want to look weak. I want him to know I'm capable of being enough for him."

Jane gets it. For weeks after Hoyt, she refused absolutely any help after she was released from the hospital. She fought so hard with pill bottles and door knobs that she busted the stitches in her hands twice. She never let on to the pain—not even when she almost cried filling out paperwork on the very first day she returned to work. She was capable and she wanted everyone to be damn sure of it.

Jane smiles and kisses her temple. "He'll know."

Maura nods, eyes watering. After a beat, she looks at Jane. "Do you think I'll be any good at this," she asks, voice trembling. She so desperately wants this and to excel at it.

When Jane had broken her hand, Maura cooked even though the smells made her cancer-ridden body physically ill. When Frankie forgot the beer for Sunday dinner, Maura left to get it before anyone had noticed—even though she had only had surgery nine days prior. Always selfless. Always kind. Always loving in every single thing she does.

Jane nods and runs her hand across Maura's lower back. "No. You'll be _great_."

She wipes the corner of Maura's eye as the knob starts to turn. The woman unceremoniously drops the two and a half year old to his feet and he unsteadily wobbles inside as the door shuts behind him. Petrified, he stands completely still—wide eyes blinking up at them.

Neither of them begins to move, either. They'd received a picture in the mail shortly after receiving the papers, but it didn't do him justice. He was _beautiful. _Milk chocolate skin, teeth whiter than white, and eyes the color of the sky.

He anxiously tugs at the hem of his shirt that rests right above the belly button of his protruding stomach. Maura knows if he were without it, she would visibly be able to count every rib. He wasn't the skinniest or most malnourished they'd seen by any means, but it was just as unnerving how small he was.

They'd help him, though. Give him the things he could only dream about now.

Three meals a day. A family. A home.

They'd complete him.

Just like he would complete them.

Finally, Jane crouches down to eye level with him. She doesn't make a move to touch him for fear of scaring him. These orphanages aren't known for having the most gentle discipline systems and she's seen enough abuse cases to know not to reach out first.

She smiles and fights the lump in her throat. If she wasn't so prepared for this, she'd be scared at how much she loves him already. She swallows and tries to remember the words she had learned, but forgets all but his name. She hopes it's enough to put him a little more at ease.

"Hello, Masomakali," she can't help the tear that rolls down her cheek. She just spoke to their child for the first time. _Their_ child.

He looks between them and takes a small, barefooted step closer. "Hallo," he manages to get out.

Jane can't help but laugh. Her pronunciation just got corrected by a two and a half year old.

He's so much like Maura already.

Maura finally gets over her initial astonishment and bends at the waist—holding out her palm to him. In it rests a tiny toy car they picked up on the ride over. It most likely isn't safe for him to even have, but Jane convinced her they wouldn't let him out of their sight long enough for him get hurt.

His eyes flick from Jane, to the car, to Maura's face. She smiles and holds it out a little closer to him. "Jy kan dit vat. Dit is vir jou, baba." [You can take it. It's for you, baby.]

His eye contact never waivers as he takes two steps and reaches out for it—afraid she'll jerk it away from him as soon as he touches it. She nods and his fingers finally make contact with the cool metal. He's surprised when she lets him pick it up from her hand, so he clutches tighter to it as he thinks she's going to change her mind.

She smiles and drops to her knees beside Jane. She uses her finger to roughly draw roads in the dirt on the floor. It only takes a second before he's grinning and crouched down in front of them—too-short pants riding up even higher on his shins.

He slowly rolls the car through the paths on the floor and starts to giggle as Jane makes engine noises. He looks up and holds it out to Jane—no longer scared they'll take it from him.

"Speel met my," he says as he drops it in her hand.

Jane looks over at Maura, hoping for an explanation. She's pretty sure that wasn't a phrase she had learned. Smiling, Maura pushes Jane's hand with the car in it down to the floor. "He wants you to play with him," joy clearly evident in her voice.

Soon, he takes the car from Jane and hands it to Maura. They play like that for over an hour—sharing the car, Maura translating his short sentences for Jane, and their laughter filling the room.

It's meant to be.

Maura can feel it.

Jane can feel it.

And they're both pretty sure he can feel it.

After their time is up, they regretfully stand to leave. He looks up at them, eyes full of fear. Sadness. Heartbreak.

His lip trembles as he tugs at the hem of Maura's dress. She inhales sharply as he throws his arms up, wanting to be held.

They played for almost two hours, but had made no contact besides the brushing of finger tips. Eyes watering, she looks at Jane and back down to him. She gently puts her hands under his arms and slowly starts to lift—if he wasn't so malnourished, she doubted she could pick him up so easily. The surgery did extensive damage and she hasn't quite regained all of her strength.

Feeling his skin against her—his breath against her cheek—she already knows she'll double the already vigorous efforts she's given at physical therapy. She doesn't want to imagine the day he gets too heavy to lift solely because she didn't work hard enough.

His hands wrap around the back of her neck and his sky blue eyes look directly in hers. "Neem my ook. Ek wil he jy moet my moeder te wees," he looks over at Jane, tear rolling down his cheek. "Ek sal 'n goeie seun te wees vir jou!" [Take me too. I want you to be my mother. I will be good boy for you.]

Maura can't help the laugh that bursts from her. He wants them just as much as they want him. One arm holds him against her, and the other strokes the back of his hair. "Ons vir jou sal terug kom more." [We will come back for you tomorrow.]

His chin starts to tremble in disbelief. No one ever comes back. No one gives him things and no one _ever _comes back. Jane steps beside her and places one hand on Maura's back and the other on his. Maura uses one hand to wipe away the tears from his cheeks.

"Ons sal aan jou stuur die huis met ons en ons sal vir jou 'n moeder te wees,"she swallows thickly, "Ons is lief vir jou." [We will take you home with us and we will be your mothers. We love you.]

He looks between them, confusion written all over his face. No one has ever told him that they loved him.

Ever.

And he had never said it to anyone before, either. He never had to. He never felt anything but hunger and fear.

But not now.

If love meant being happy around someone and sad when they were gone, he must love them too. He uses one hand to stroke Maura's cheek and the other to rub Jane's.

"Masomakali lief vir jou ook." [Masomakali loves you too.]

…

…

Isn't it weird that it's illegal to be homosexual and adopt everywhere except for South Africa? They really don't give two flying shits. I thought it was interesting!

But, anyway. I don't think I've ever read anything about them adopting a child from Africa. Part of me has always thought she'd be inclined to because she worked there and saw the horror. But that's just me! Thanks again for the feedback (:


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Okay, so this chapter is…rough. Very much on the darker side. Trigger warning, I suppose…I just don't know what I'd categorize it as. Just be forewarned—this chapter contains NO fluff or anything of the like. **

**Odd chapters (1, 3, 5, etc) will be flashbacks that are out of order.  
**

******Even chapters (2, 4, 6, etc) will be present day that ARE in order. **  


**…**

Running has become one of the only ways to clear her mind. All she can do is focus on her feet hitting the ground, the air rushing into her lungs, the burn in her legs.

It's probably the only time she isn't thinking about how everything has gone to complete shit; how her hands shake because she doesn't sleep for fear of hurting Maura, how the dark bags under her eyes are almost ever present.

So to forget, she runs.

As long and hard and fast as she can all while trying not to think of how unfair it is for her to do this when Maura was the one that always liked to run. Maura was the one to make her do marathons and go on 'burn off the excess alcohol consumption calories!' runs and yet, she's the one that no longer can. It's unfair and she knows it— but she just can't stop.

She peels the sweat drenched shirt off of her body as she makes her way down the hall to the bathroom. She's too busy thinking about how the cold water will feel against her warm, sweaty skin to realize Maura's no longer in bed.

She pushes open the bathroom door and instantly drops her face at the sight of Maura looking at herself in the mirror. "I'm sorry. I should've knocked."

"Jane, this is your house too. You shouldn't have to knock."

Maura knows Jane shouldn't have to, but it doesn't keep her from wishing she would. She wraps her left arm over her chest and steps to the side so Jane can walk in. "You can go ahead and get in the shower. I'm almost done."

Without looking up, Jane walks to the far side of the bathroom and turns the water on as cold as it can go. She goes to pull off her bra, but stops and turns to look at Maura out of the corner of her eye. She can barely make out her profile, but she knows better than to look at her. Not right now, not like this. But it's killing her to know that's how distant they've become in a matter of three weeks. She sighs and rubs at her temple.

"Maura…we can't keep doing this. You know I'll love you no matter what…but I can't keep playing this game where I tiptoe around you all the time anymore." Out of habit, she starts to look up at Maura before looking back down. "We don't keep things from each other. We never have. I know you're uncomfortable with it, I do," her voice drops down to a whisper. "but I just want you to let me in."

Maura watches Jane only a moment before making up her mind. Jane was right—she had to let her in. She knew it would eventually come down to this, although she had hoped it was after things settled down, looked more normal. But she misses Jane's laughter, the easy banter. The way Jane still looks at her like she is the only person in the world. The way Jane gently loops her arm around her waist as she tries to fall asleep.

It's been weeks since any of that and she misses it. She knows she's the reason it stopped, so now she has to be the reason it starts. With shaking hands, she slowly starts to take off the white adhesive bandage from her chest and the underside of her arm. She finally manages to pull them all off before letting her arms dangle by her sides. "You want me to let you in? I'm letting you in."

Jane refuses to look up. She didn't want it to be like this, she just wanted to talk. She would never push Maura into doing something she wasn't ready for and yet, it feels like that's exactly what she's just done.

Maura stands stock-still—waiting. Her heart starts beating erratically as nervousness starts to consume her. "Jane," she whispers, "Please look at me."

Finally, she relents and lifts her head. Even after 13 days, Maura's chest is still mottled deep purple, black, and green. One long scar travels from the center of the right side of her chest to three inches down the inside of her right arm. Thick, black stitches starkly stand out against the bruising from one side to the other. Add this to the scar under her collar bone from the supraclavicular lymph node removal and the one from the chemotherapy port above her heart, and Maura looks nothing like she used to.

It's surprising—shocking. She knew what the damage would be, but it's just so _different _to actually see it. Her intake of breath is sharp, fast, even though she tries to conceal it. At the sound of Jane's gasp, Maura's face instantly drops to look at the ground and she wraps her left arm back around her chest. She knew Jane wouldn't possibly mean what she said. How could she possibly love someone so marred and so…broken?

_Damnit. _Two long strides and Jane is instantly in front of her—placing her fingers under Maura's chin and lifting her face to look her in the eye.

"Don't hide yourself from me, Maura." Jane brings her hands to Maura's cheeks, fighting off her own tears. "Don't ever think you have to hide yourself from me. You," she harshly swallows, "you are _so _beautiful. Even like this, you are _so_ beautiful."

Maura bites at her bottom lip and imperceptibly shakes her head. "Please don't lie to me, Jane. You're the only person who never has," she whispers, tears threatening already.

She pulls Maura as tightly against her as she dares, Maura's face finding solace in the crook of her neck. "I'm not lying. You are so unbelievable beautiful. You take my breath away every single day." She pauses to get her voice back under control. "I love you and I love everything about you. Nothing will ever change that._ Nothing_."

She wraps her arms around Jane's waist as she feels long fingers stroking her back. She waits until the first wave of tears has stopped before she speaks. "It's a change in shape. It is not a change in self," Maura whispers against her neck. She pulls back just enough to look into Jane's eyes. "That's what I tell myself every time my thoughts threaten to consume me. Every time I feel damaged," she swallows and her eyes avert to the floor, "worthless."

Jane closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. How had she let things spiral down this far? She never should've let it get this out of control.

"You are not worthless, Maura. You are amazing."

Maura bitterly laughs before pulling back completely to lean against the vanity. "No I'm not, Jane. Can't you see? All I can do is cause you heartache. Your family, our friends,my parents…everyone's life has changed because of this! Because of _me,_" she swallows and fights down a sob. _"_I just want everyone to go on with their lives and be happy again. That won't happen while I'm still here…while I'm still here just struggling to survive and dragging everyone down with me." Her eyes start brimming with tears and she shrugs. "And what's it all for, Jane? I can't give you children, I can't give you happiness…all I can do is hurt you by making you go through this with me."

Jane clenches her jaw to keep her own emotions at bay as she reaches out and gently pulls Maura's hands into hers. She looks into Maura's eyes and shakes her head. "No. You're not _making_ me go through anything, Maura. I'm here by your side because I love you. I'm here because there's not a single damn person in this world that can take your place in my heart. Without you…I am nothing, Maura. Absolutely nothing."

She stops to blink back her own tears. She's failed Maura by not reminding her this every single day. Jane's never going to let her forget how much she needs her ever again. "You make me happy on the worst of days, Maura. Sometimes…sometimes I just want to be next to you so I can listen to you breathe, smell your hair. It's stuff like that…the simple stuff is what makes me happy. Don't ever think you only cause me heartache, because it's far from that."

Maura's openly sobbing as tears freely fall down her cheeks. Jane reaches up and gently cradles her face, using her thumbs to wipe away the tears. "I want us to grow old and gray and I want to hear you complain about your wrinkles. I want you to be here when our 12 adopted kids are running around our house and screaming about God knows what. Hell, even if we have zero kids, we'll still be a family—just you and me."

She pauses just to look in Maura's eyes. They're duller than they used to be, but still beautiful. Her chest physically hurts from the love she has for her wife welling up inside her. She leans forward and briefly kisses Maura's lips before pulling back. "I love you and cherish everything about you and…just please don't ever think you're worthless. Don't ever think I'd be better off without you because _I wouldn't. _I live for you, Maura. Don't you ever think you have to die to save me," her lip trembles as she imperceptibly shakes her head. "That wouldn't spare me. _That_ would kill me."

Maura says nothing to refute it. She can't. Her throat is tight, her chest is burning from how hard she's struggling to gasp for breath through her cries. She leans forward and pulls Jane to her, just needing to touch her.

Maura's face pressed into her shoulder, Jane finally feels like it's okay to let go. One hand rubs against Maura's back and the other against the short hair that's finally starting to grow back. They stand like that for seconds, minutes, hours…neither can really tell.

They're both just too reluctant to let go of each other. For all they know, it could be one of the last chances they ever get.

…

…

Let me know what you think, alright?

If you don't, I guess that's okay too. (:


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I'm glad you're all liking this, as heartbreaking as it is. **

**Odd chapters (1, 3, 5, etc) will be flashbacks that are out of order.  
**

******Even chapters (2, 4, 6, etc) will be present day that ARE in order. **  


**If you have questions, don't hesitate to ask.  
**

…**.**

Maura leans into Jane as they sit on the ground and watch Tommy toss a whiffle ball back and forth with their son. His small hands rarely catch it, but it doesn't keep him from giggling every time it gets thrown his way.

Jane laughs as she watches him fling it back in his tiny khaki pants and cardigan sweater. His outfit—combined with letting Maura teach him how to throw—almost guarantees he'll always be picked last for any sport. Jane absolutely does not want that to happen—she's definitely stopping to buy him a toddler-sized Red Sox jersey on the way home from work tomorrow.

The crisp early autumn air blows the fallen leaves off the ground and into the air, swirling around him. He jumps up and down to try and catch some, but he's still small for his age so they are just out of reach. He looks over at Jane and Maura and shrugs with his ever-present smile still in place. "Te min." [Too little.]

Maura laughs and wraps her arm around the back of Jane's waist to pull her closer. "Yes, you are too little, aren't you?"

He nods and Jane moves to go help him, but Tommy beats her to it. "I got ya, little man," he says as he lifts Mack up to the nearest tree. He never planned on loving this little boy—on becoming so attached—but as soon as he saw those bright blue eyes, he knew. He knew he was going to be the best Uncle he could possibly be. He wanted to be an Uncle that Mack could be proud of, so he started to change.

Instead of going to bars as soon as he got off work, he offers to pick him up from daycare. Instead of trying to pick up women when he's bored, he comes over to play with Mack. Instead of blowing his money on bets and gambling, he saves up to buy Mack as many toys as he can afford. He wants this little boy to know he is never going to be without love from any of the Rizzolis, no matter how little love he received in his first two and a half years.

Mack reaches up and picks a solid red leaf from the tree before Tommy sets him back down on the ground. He holds it in his hand and waves it towards Jane and Maura."Dit is brown!"

Jane laughs at the gleeful expression on his face. Most of the time she can't tell if he's speaking Afrikaans or really broken English. Maura smiles at him before turning to Jane with a slight frown. "I think we may need to get him tested for shade blindness, Jane."

Jane shakes her head in disbelief. "We've only had him a few months...He probably just doesn't know how to translate it to English yet." She turns to look at Maura—hopeful expression on her face. "Right?"

Contemplatively, Maura watches as Tommy starts raking leaves in a pile for Mack to jump in. He's her child—she's wants things to be easy for him. If he is shade blind, it won't be the hardest thing to overcome, but it just certainly won't be easiest either.

And even though he has made huge advances since they adopted him and has learned fairly quickly, she knows there could be far more things wrong with him—especially with the years of malnourishment he had to endure and the lack of knowledge they have about his birth parents.

She tries to force those thoughts from her mind and slightly nods as takes Jane's hand in her own. "Perhaps."

Jane knows better than to push any further. Maura won't guess, she still never does. She brings their hands into her lap and runs a thumb over Maura's pale knuckles as they watch Mack jump in the leaves and playfully yell things that Tommy surely can't understand.

Maura's heart clutches as she watches him wrap his arms around Tommy's neck for a hug. She had been so afraid that he would never truly know how to love after years of being neglected. They had been lucky he had yet to show any signs of attachment disorders that often came along with it, too. Instead, he was kind and sweet and loving.

Everything she possibly could've hoped for in a child.

In her eyes, he's perfect.

And she knows he's perfect in Jane's, too.

Frankie walks up and starts tossing more leaves on Mack before reaching over and smacking at a bug on his shoulder. Mack misunderstands and instantly falls to the ground, curling into the fetal position with his arms covering his head.

Both Frankie and Tommy reach down to help him up but he screams and they promptly pull back and look up to Jane.

She's already on her feet and marching over to them. "Damnit, Frankie, you can't do that," she exclaims as she pushes him out of the way.

Frankie's eyes get wide and he steps back. "There was a bug on him, Janie! I was just trying to get it off."

Jane rolls her eyes and crouches down beside Mack. Of all the obstacles he's overcome, he still hasn't forgotten the way he was punished in the orphanage. Even the slightest tap can send him into a frightened heap on the ground.

She reaches out to gently pull his arms away from his face, but he only trembles and clings tighter. "Mallie," he sobs out, "Want Mallie!"

Before Jane can even wave her over, Maura is already crouching down next to him and soothingly rubbing his arm. Jane stands up and puts her hands on her hips as she looks down at them.

Maura explained that adopted children often favor one parent over the other for certain things in the first few months. Jane was the one he ran to when he wanted to play something. She was the one he ran to when he wanted to sneak something to eat that he really wasn't supposed to. But Maura was the one he called for when he was hurt. Maura was the one he cuddled up next to at night.

Part of Jane wishes _she_ was the one that got to hold him as they slept. Part of her wishes _she _was the one he ran to when he was upset.

But then she sees the loving smile spread across Maura's face as she lifts him off the ground and carries him inside. It's then that realizes she's actually really glad Maura gets this part of him. After everything she's been through, she deserves it.

It doesn't mean he loves Jane any less, it just means he loves her _differently. _And she's okay with that.

As long as she has him in her life, she's definitely okay with that.

Tommy nervously steps up behind her and puts his hand on her shoulder. "So, uh…Jane," he clears his throat, "Did Mack, y'know…get abused or anything?"

Jane sighs and turns to face him. "Maura thinks there's a pretty good chance that he did. We'll probably never know for sure."

Tommy pulls his hand back and shakes his head as he looks down. "Son of a bitch. That ain't right, Jane," he takes a deep breath and looks back up at her. "Isn't there anything you can do about it? Get the place shut down or something?"

Jane bitterly laughs and raises her eyebrows. "And what? Let those kids live on the streets? At least there they had a bed and some food. That's more than they would get if it was shut down."

"But is that really worth it," Frankie pipes up as he crosses his arms, "Is that worth getting abused for?"

Jane shrugs. She has no idea. She only knows that without that orphanage, they never would've gotten Mack.

And that's really something she doesn't want to think about.

She goes to walk inside but Tommy calls out to her. "Do you think you guys will adopt another?"

She turns back to him and he bashfully drops his head. "I know it's not really my place but—"

"—I don't know. Maybe."

She hopes so. If Maura is as happy as this with one, she can only imagine her with two. Or three or four.

She knows they have enough love to give and she knows there are more than enough kids that deserve it.

Tommy smiles and starts to follow her. "I know we aren't usually mushy or whatever…but I just want you to know that we'll all love them," he lifts one shoulder and does an embarrassed grin, "They might not be Rizzolis by blood, but they're Rizzolis by heart."

She almost wants to laugh at how much that sounds like a Hallmark card, but she almost wants to cry at how much that means to her.

Not one for physical affection except for with Maura or her child, he's surprised when she pulls him into a hug. She pulls back and pats his shoulder. "That means a lot, Tommy. Maura would really appreciate that."

He laughs and scratches at his neck. "Good, 'cause I kinda already told her."

Frankie shakes his head. "I think Tommy just set you guys up to have some more kids. No wonder he's Ma's favorite."

Disbelievingly, she rolls her eyes and opens the door to walk inside.

They just got played by her little brother.

She's more than a little happy about it, though—especially if it means they _do_ add another child to their family.

She walks in the kitchen to see that Mack has finally calmed down enough to let Maura sit him on the edge of the counter as she starts to make him some lunch. His legs kick against the front of the dishwasher as he stares down into his cup.

Jane peeks inside and barely suppresses a gag.

It's the thick, milk-like formula he still has to drink to gain weight and muscle mass. He never complains about it—about any food, actually—because it's at least something to keep him from going hungry.

He knows that feeling all too well. He's definitely doesn't want to feel the pang of hunger ever again, even if it means drinking this.

The thick liquid touches his lips and he tries not to grimace.

Jane can't handle it. No child of hers is going to be forced into eating something they hate. Quietly, she walks over to the fridge and pulls out the chocolate syrup she hid in there last week. She makes sure Maura's back is turned before she walks over and squirts some in Mack's cup.

His eyes light up as he recognizes it. He looks up at her with a grin. "Sjokolade!" [Chocolate!]

Jane pushes her finger to her lips, but it's already too late. Maura turns and tries to look serious. "Jane, you really shouldn't give him that. His digestive system isn't accustomed to so much of it at a time."

Jane playfully rolls her eyes and Maura finally does smile. "You say that every time, Maura, and he turns out just fine." She rubs his short hair as he takes a big gulp. "Don't ya, buddy?"

He nods, chocolate milk mustache already forming on his upper lip. "Ja. Mack is fine."

Maura laughs and pats his leg. "Good. Do you remember what you're supposed to say?"

He nods and looks to Jane. "Thanksya, Mama."

Well, that's close enough. Jane smiles and kisses his forehead. "You're welcome, little man."

She takes the now-empty cup and sets it in the sink before picking him up and setting him down on the floor. He runs off to get some toys that they can play with while Maura cooks—he never likes to be too far away from either of them.

Jane walks up behind Maura and wraps her arms around her waist as she cuts up some vegetables. They slowly start swaying back and forth and Jane leans down and kisses Maura on the neck below the ear. "I love you."

She says it as many times as she can in a day because she knows what it's like to have the fear of never being able to say it again.

Maura smiles and places her hand over Jane's on her stomach. "I love you, too."

She sets the knife down and turns in Jane's arms to face her. "Did Tommy talk to you too?"

Jane rolls her eyes and laughs. "Yeah. Apparently he really likes being the 'cool uncle' or whatever the hell he calls himself."

Maura grins and kisses her before leaning the side of her face against her chest. Jane wraps her arms around her waist and they slowly start swaying again. "What do you think," she whispers. "Should we have more?"

Jane takes a deep breath and moves one of her hands up to rest in Maura's hair. "I'd like to have another, yeah," she pauses as she hears his footsteps on the hardwood, "I want to get to know Mack better first, though. I don't want him to think we are replacing him."

Maura nods against her and fights the urge to cry. That's _exactly_ how she feels and she's so incredibly happy that Jane agrees. They went through so much, they went from thinking they'd never have children to possibly having two. Maybe even more.

She's elated.

She pulls back as Mack pushes his way between their legs and forces them apart. He excitedly jumps up and down and thrusts his hands in the air towards Jane. She picks him up and he holds two cars out—one being the one they brought him in the orphanage that's still his favorite—before looking up with a smile. "I want to jaag, Mama." [race.]

Of course. She swears she's going to see him in the Indy 500 one day. The both get down on the floor and line up the cars by Maura's foot. She looks over at him and wags her eyebrows. He giggles and holds up a finger. "No cheat," he says before focusing back on his car as he counts down. "Een, twee, drie…Go!"[One, two, three.]

Jane laughs as he takes off towards the refrigerator. Even when she tries to win, she can't. He beats her every single time.

But the look that crosses his face when he wins is enough for her to be happy that she doesn't.

….

….

Alright. 'Mack' and 'Mallie' will be explained in another chapter.

If you didn't pick up on it, Mack is Masomakali from chapter two.

I don't like this chapter, but I felt like we needed a happy one before the next sad one (:


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: To the guest review—I meant the only place in Africa that homosexuals can adopt is South Africa. Sorry for the confusion. ****And I've changed my mind about the format:**

Odd chapters (1, 3, 5, etc) will be flashbacks that are _out_ of order.

Even chapters (2, 4, 6, etc) will be present day that ARE in order.

All the previous chapters conform to this, so that's how I'll keep doing it. Ask if you have any questions. I'll be happy to answer.

This one is a flashback.

…

Maura burrows further into the cocoon of blankets wrapped around her on the couch. Even with layers of Jane's sweatshirts and blankets, it's not enough to keep out the chill. It's never enough.

She hears someone at the door, so she sticks the end of the remote out from the covers as she turns down the volume of the tv. She listens for the knock, but there's only the jingle of keys.

Angela.

She hears the quiet shuffling of footsteps trail into the kitchen and then hears the refrigerator door open and things getting placed inside. Leftovers, no doubt. No matter how many times she tells Angela only certain things agree with her now, the leftovers are still brought every single day and thrown out the very next. She doesn't know if they're brought out of habit or because Angela thinks she'll really eat them one day, but it doesn't matter. It just feels nice to know someone cares enough to do that for her.

Angela finally pads over to the couch and looks down at her with a too-bright smile that's seemingly always plastered on her face these days. "Are you feeling better?"

If Maura had any strength left to laugh, she would at the irony. She struggles to sit up against the arm of the couch so Angela can sit at her feet. "No. Although, not any worse than yesterday."

Angela gives the same faux optimistic smile again as she gently raises Maura's feet to rest in her lap. "Well that's a good thing, Maura. Not feeling any worse means you're getting ready to start feeling better, right?"

If only it were that simple. Not wanting to crush the only hope Angela was barely clinging to, Maura tries to give her best smile. It ends up looking as exhausted and disheartened as she feels.

Angela gives her legs a gentle pat. "You've got to believe that—"

"—Can you save this speech for another day, Angela? Please? I hear them enough from Jane to know exactly what you're going to say."

Her tone isn't rude or harsh—it's pleading. Angela's heart clutches. If Jane has only gotten this far with her encouragements, things can't be as good as Maura tries to make them seem. Angela gives a nod and the first sympathetic smile Maura's seen in months. "Okay. I can do that."

They sit in silence for a few moments and Maura goes to nervously spin her wedding ring around her finger until she realizes it's no longer there. It had fallen off and down into a sink drain in the hospital weeks ago. She was sure Jane would be upset, but she only offered to go shopping for another when she got better.

_When_ she got better. Not if.

A few weeks ago, Maura believed it. She believed all the blindly optimistic things Jane would say out of sheer hope. She had hoped so desperately to wake up and everything be normal again—all of this simply a figment of her imagination.

But now, she wakes up a little more tired and a little more weak than the day before. She hardly keeps anything down and she now weighs less than she had since high school. She's frail and cold and Jane has to help her up the stairs to get in bed at night.

After all those changes—all those facts smacking her in the face—she doesn't believe the blindly optimistic things anyone says to her. She relies on facts and figures and studies and research like she used to because this is real and this is happening and sadly, none of the outcomes look good.

She clears her throat to speak. "Angela, may I ask you for a favor?"

Angela gives a normal smile at the chance to be helpful. "Of course, dear. Anything you need."

Maura knows she shouldn't do this—she shouldn't crush the little hope Angela has left, but she has to get this off her chest. She _needs_ to. She swallows against the tightness of her throat and looks up at Angela with watery eyes.

"When I'm gone, I want to make sure that…that you'll remind Jane to eat on busy work days because she always forgets. Make sure to remind her that her slacks need to go to the drycleaners instead of being washed at home because they'll shrink up and she'll complain about flooding or hightide…I can't remember the phrase."

Her lip trembles and she wipes away the few tears that have already started to escape. "And…and help her cook the lasagna because she always burns it no matter how many times I teach her how to prepare it. And Bass….Only let her feed him organic Chicory lettuce and not the cheap kind that she tries to get away with buying, okay?"

She bites at her lip as her head falls forward to look down as tears roll down her face. She doesn't even bother to wipe them away before she looks back up, a pleading look written so clearly on her face. "Just…help her when I can't, Angela. Make sure she doesn't change just because I'm gone. Keep her company…Make sure she's happy. She tends to put on a façade, but if you pay attention you'll see right through it." She pauses as a sob wracks her body and Angela reaches out to hold her hand. Her chest is aching and it's getting harder to breathe, but she needs to get everything out. She needs to know that Jane will still be taken care of.

"And when she's had a bad day, remind her of how much I loved her. Because sometimes I love her so much…I physically ache. Please remind her of that when she feels like she can't go on. Because she's strong and brave and… remind her that her life can't stop just because I'm not here anymore."

She audibly swallows and tries to look at Angela through blurry eyes. "Will you…will you try to do all of this for me? Please? I need you to do this for me."

Tears are rolling freely down Angela's cheeks as she nods. "Maura, I will do _anything_ for my children. So, if you want me to do all of this, I'll do it for you because you are my child." She furiously wipes at her tears and defiantly juts her chin out. "But only on one condition."

Sobbing, Maura nods. "What…what is it?"

Angela has never felt so heartbroken. Not when Frank had left her. Not when Tommy had been arrested. Not even when Jane was shot. That…that was terrifying. But this? This was devastating. It was devastating to watch someone so weak and frail beg for someone _else's_ life to go on.

She raises her eyebrows and defiantly juts out her chin. "I'll only do these things when you're out of town for work because you're _not_ dying. Do you hear me? I won't let you." She shakes her head and fights off another wave of tears. "No mother should have to outlive her children, Maura. I won't let you die on me."

Maura wants that to be true—she so desperately wants that to be true. She wants Angela and Jane and whoever else gives a damn to wrap her up, hold her close, and keep her safe. She wants them to be able to keep her alive.

But the odds just aren't in her favor.

All she can do is cry out her pain—her sorrows—and somehow Angela manages to gently pull her into a hug. It's a weird angle and it'll probably leave bruises for tomorrow, but she can't bring herself to pull back. Not yet.

With Jane, she feels protected when she gets held.

But with Angela, it's a completely different type of protection. It's like a motherly bond set in place to comfort her, remind her that she's part of a family bigger than just she and Jane. And it feels good to just remember that—if only for a little while.

It's minutes or hours—she isn't sure which—when she hears the sound of Jane's keys in the door. She slowly scoots back from Angela and wipes her eyes. It won't do her any good. Jane will know—she always does.

Angela stands and places a quick kiss on the scarf that's wrapped around her head before walking past Jane and leaving without a word. Puzzled, Jane watches the door close before walking into the living room.

As soon as she sees Maura red, puffy eyes she knows whatever happened couldn't have been very good. Even though her work hours are much shorter—Maura refuses to let her quit going all together—she still misses things that she wishes she could be here for.

She sits down sideways on the couch so close to Maura that their knees are pressed together. Solemnly, she reaches out and trails her fingers down a pale cheek. "What's wrong? Why didn't you call me?"

Somehow, Maura manages to keep her lip from trembling. "I love you so much, Jane. Do you know that?"

Jane nods and coaxes her a little closer. "Of course I know that. I love you too."

Maura's eyes briefly flutter close as she leans into Jane's hand on her cheek. "You…" she takes a shaky breath, "You have shown me what love is and what it truly feels like to be loved. Every time…every time we kiss, I feel how much I love you. Every single one from you feels just as wonderful and amazing as the first kiss you gave me. Did you know that?"

Jane's eyes are already watering and she somehow manages to smile even though her chest feels like it's caving in. "Yeah, I know. I feel it, too."

Maura reaches up and pulls Jane's hand from her face and brings it against her heart. "You have shown me how to live and how to be truly happy. I want you to know that almost every time I smile, it's because you put it there. You…you make me smile on the worst of days when others can't," her voice drops to a whisper as her throat tightens once again, "You made me feel warm when others deemed me to be cold."

She reaches up to wipe the tears off Jane's cheeks. "You have shown me so much love and so much more than I even begin to describe. I want…I want you to know how much you mean to me, Jane."

Jane fervently nods. "I do. I do, Maura. And you mean so much to me. You are my whole world and I love you with all of my heart. I _need_ you to know how much I need you."

Maura does know. And that's what makes it so damned hard to cope with possibly dying and leaving Jane all alone. She pulls Jane's head to rest against her chest and strokes her fingers through messy curls. "Have you ever heard of Murphy's Law?"

Jane shakes her head and whispers, "No."

"Murphy's Law states that if anything can go wrong, it will." She bitterly laughs through tears. "I had spent a lifetime searching for real happiness and then when I had finally found it…everything crumbled apart in my hands."

Jane wraps her arms tightly around Maura's waist. "Nothing's crumbled yet, Maura. You'll…You're gonna be fine." She pulls back and tries to smile even though her chin is trembling. "You're going to get better and we'll go to Dubai and Italy and all those other places I know you want to go, okay? I promise we'll get to go because you're going to be fine."

"No." Maura shakes her head and shakily inhales. "If…don't ever have any doubts about remarrying when…if something happens to me. You can take them to those places."

Jane pulls back to look her in the eye, pain etched on her face. "Don't say that."

Maura can't stop now. She has to let it out. She never wants Jane to ever be too guilty to be with anyone else. "When the right person comes into your life, let them in. You deserve to be happy, Jane. Even if it's not with me, you deserve to be happy. You should—"

"—Goddamnit, stop," she chokes out through tears. "Just stop it, Maura. I could never be happy with anyone else. You _are_ my happiness. Without you, I have nothing left to give. So stop talking like that because you aren't going to die. I won't let you."

Maura somehow manages a small grin. "That's exactly what your mother said."

Knowingly, Jane nods. "See? Rizzoli's don't say anything they don't mean. We'll do anything for family and you're family. So if we say you're going to live…then you're going to live, Maura Isles. Stop saying you won't."

Jane's logic is flawed, but it sounds too good for her to try and dispute it. Instead, she weakly crawls—and gets half pulled—into Jane's lap.

Even though the house stays at a constant 80 degrees, Jane throws a few blankets over both of them to keep Maura warm. Her ear presses against Jane's heart and her tears cause the blue button-down to grow darker in circled patches.

She doesn't want to die. She knows it's inevitable someday, but she doesn't want it to be anytime soon. Not when she has so much—so many _people_—to live for.

Her hands clutch at Jane and she pulls in as close as she can. "Please," she whispers, "Please don't let me die."

Jane tenses briefly before wrapping her arms around Maura to hold her tighter than she's dared to in months. "I won't. Trust me, I won't."

…**.**

…**.**

**Well, that was sad. This was during the chemo –before the surgery—if you didn't pick up on that. **

**The next chapter will be their current life with little ole Mack. (: **

**And leave a review if you'd like. I love reading them, especially when it comes to things as somber as this. Thanks!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Sorry for the wait! Life just caught up with me for a little while. **

**I have most of the next chapter done already, so it shouldn't take too long. Thanks for reading, as always!**

**Present Day. **

…

Jane hurries in the door as she glances at her watch. She's only fifteen minutes later than she said she'd be, which isn't that bad for it being a holiday. She follows the laughter of Maura and Mack—the sound of _home—_into the living room.

Maura's sitting on the couch and Jane leans across the back to kiss her temple. She looks around for her son, but her eyes slowly start to narrow when she realizes he's nowhere in sight. There's no doubt that she just heard his loud, sweet giggling only moments ago.

"Where's—"

"Sup-rises!" Mack yells as he jumps out from behind the arm of the loveseat across the room, arms raised above his head.

Jane's eyebrows shoot up and it's really all she can do not to start laughing as she looks him up and down.

For her son's first Halloween he's dressed as….Pinocchio.

Complete with red shorts that have attached suspenders, a yellow short-sleeve shirt, a ridiculously big blue bowtie around his neck, white gloves, white knee socks, and little black shoes.

Not to mention the little brown hat with a red feather that's cocked sideways on his head.

At least Maura left off the fake nose.

But, it's beyond adorable and not even Jane can pretend it isn't.

Leave it to Maura to step outside the box to make sure he's standing out _and_ happy at the same time. It only makes Jane love her more for it.

Her fingers slightly squeeze Maura's shoulder and her eyebrows raise as she watches him start skipping across the room towards her. "Really, Maura?"

Who would Jane be if she didn't pretend to be agitated by this? It's only natural.

Even though she secretly loves that he's not something as gory or lame like the innumerable amounts of Grim Reapers and Power Rangers she sees at their door every year.

"Cute?" He's looking up at her as he tugs on the fabric of her pants, teeth exposed and white from a grin so big that she can't help but smile back.

He raises his arms and she picks him up, settling him on her hip as she pokes at his ribs until he laughs. "_Very_ cute, little man. Your Mallie did good."

Maura walks to them, standing on her toes to kiss Jane's cheek in greeting. "It _was_ hard to find. But you know how much he loves that movie; I thought he would make a wonderful Pinocchio."

Grabbing her keys off the table, she carries Mack out the door with Maura walking close to her side. "As long as you don't make me dress up as Geppeto, I guess we're alright."

Maura grabs the keys from Jane's hand and walks around to the driver's side. If there was one thing Jane hated, it was driving on Halloween. All those kids darting across the road and parents not watching them closely enough…it always unnerved her to the point of driving slower than Maura in a school zone.

She climbs in and looks over her shoulder to the backseat to watch Jane buckle Mack in his seat. He's swinging his legs and singing a Disney song she can't seem to remember the name of. "I did find a wonderful mustache and wig that would suit your skin tone…"

"Ha ha, you're _so_ funny, Doctor Isles," Jane retorts with a humorous glint in her eye.

Maura's gotten a lot better with the sarcasm and joking around in the past couple of years. After someone's been through what she has, they have to find a way to cope somehow. Luckily, Maura picked up Jane's sense of humor instead of something any worse.

Jane climbs in the passenger seat, hand automatically reaching out to lace with Maura's after they pull out of the driveway. Mack's voice fills the car as he sings different songs in mixed English and Afrikaans. Without realizing it, Jane's thumb rubs Maura's hand to the beat of his voice.

Maura thinks it's miraculous that they're so in tune with each other that Jane even subconsciously picks up on what he's doing. She has never for one second doubted his place in their lives and things like this just go to prove exactly how much he belongs here with them.

She somehow manages to make record time down the streets lined with trees covered in shades of orange, yellow, and red leaves to their destination. As soon as Mack's little feet hit the ground, he's running across the yard and into Angela's outstretched arms.

She lifts him up, somehow her squeals of delight are even louder than his. "Just look at you! You are the cutest little grandbaby I have ever seen."

Jane manages not to roll her eyes as she and Maura follow in his tracks to the front door. She's convinced her mother is going to call him "little grandbaby" until he's eighty years old.

It's just as well though. He deserves all the spoiling he could ever possibly get.

Angela pulls them into a one armed hug, Mack squished between them. "Are you girls ready to go?"

"Perhaps I should take him to the restroom? We'll be gone for a while," Maura says, looking at Mack to gage his response.

Slowly but surely, he's becoming more familiar with English. It only takes a moment before the words register and he nods, leaning towards Maura for her to take him. "Ja. Go potty, Mallie."

She really wishes Jane would use the correct terms when speaking to him, but as long as he's starting to translate words more frequently, it doesn't bother her anymore. She's long past the days of really caring about things as petty as which word he chooses to use for going to the restroom, especially if it means he can still get his point across.

She takes him and Angela watches as they walk inside. "It's so sweet that he calls Maura that."

"Mhm," Jane replies, eyes still focused on the door.

"But what in the world does it mean?"

That finally jerks Jane from her revere and she looks incredulously at her mother, eyebrows raised. "Ma, we've had him for almost five months and you're just now asking what it means?"

"Well," she exclaims, shoulders shrugging. "I didn't want to be nosey!"

"When have you ever _not_ been nosey?"

Angela puts on her hips and frowns. "Don't talk to your mother that way. I have stretch marks because of you."

Jane groans and flings her hand up. "Again with the stretch marks? Really?"

It's _always_ the stretch marks.

"Be glad you'll never get them, Janie. Your skinny ass wouldn't even be immune to them, mark my words."

Jane's mouth drops open. She doesn't even know how to respond to that.

Angela realizes Jane isn't going to speak, so she lowers herself into the wicker chair on the porch and looks up at her. "You never did answer my question."

Jane's mouth snaps shut and she frowns. How they went from trying to decipher Maura's name to stretch marks and back to the first topic that quickly, she'll never know. She sits down in the other chair and leans her elbows on her knees. "It means Mama or Mommy or something like that. I can't remember what exactly it is."

Angela places her hand over her heart and smiles. "Did she ask him to call her that?"

"No. He did it by himself."

In fact, they had been on the plane back to Boston. Mack was sitting in Maura's lap—his cheek pressed to her chest with his fingers wound in the ends of her hair. He had settled there after the initial take off and the substantial weak whimpers that escaped his lips from feeling the pressure building in his ears.

One hand intertwined with Jane's and the other stroking his short, coarse hair, Maura had thought he'd fallen asleep since he was being so still against her. But all at once he sat up, looking her straight in the eye. "Mallie, I'm hungry," tumbled from his lips so matter-of-factly that Maura's eyes widened in shock.

Had she heard that correctly?

Jane looks between them—obviously still unable to understand his Afrikaans—and waits for Maura to reply. She doesn't and Mack tilts his head in a way that resembles Maura's so much it's amazing. "Mallie?"

Maura snapped out of it, instantly pulling him back towards her chest—both arms wrapped around him—as she simultaneously laughed and almost sobbed. She had not expected him to say that so freely without any encouragement. After the first time they had visited and he had cried for them to be his mothers, he had only tugged on their hands or exclaimed "hey!" in his tiny, cute voice whenever he needed them.

But actually calling her his Mallie all on his own? Miraculous.

Angela gasps in elation. "My favorite grandbaby is just perfect."

Jane does roll her eyes this time. "He's your _only_ grandchild, Ma."

"Hopefully not for long," she replies, eyebrows wagging and smug grin tugging on her lips.

"Ma, let us get through at least a year with this one before you start begging for more, alright?"

"What? I could be talking about Frankie or Tommy," she says, faux innocence evident in her voice.

She definitely doesn't mean Frankie or Tommy.

They finally reemerge from the house hand in hand, Mack carrying the little blue jack-o-lantern bucket Angela had bought for him. Jane stands, grinning ear to ear. Never in her life did she ever think she would be this lucky—not only finding love, but a wife and a damn near perfect son.

After finally getting him to realize he had to hold one of their hands at all times and not eat the candy until it was thoroughly inspected at home, they're ready to go. Mack half skips, half dances down the sidewalk between them as they go from house to house, little hat bouncing on his head.

More people coo over his costume than Jane can count, and he gets more candy for it—the _good_ kind, too. Before they even reach the end of the street, he's slumped against Jane's shoulder asleep, his slight snores echoing against her neck. She laces her hand with Maura's as they walk back to the house, Angela yammering on and on about their being more than one backseat in a car—meaning, more room for more grandbabies to sit—and complaining about getting older. Meaning, she needed more grandbabies and she needed them soon.

They say their goodbyes and drive through the dimly lit streets until they get home. Maura carefully pulls him out of the car seat and carries him into the house, Jane not far behind. They step into his room and Jane's breath slightly hitches like it always does.

Maura had so painstakingly tried to make this room absolutely perfect for him. She hired a muralist to paint a sky so realistically on the ceiling that it looked just like being outside on a perfectly calm summer day. The walls were covered with paintings of trees and lions and zebras made to look exactly like the African savannah. Maura wanted to make sure he didn't feel out of place when he stepped into their home.

_His_ home.

Moving halfway around the world was a big adjustment for him. Seeing this put him at ease as he slowly walked into the room for the first time. He wasn't reminded of the horrible orphanage or the awful people that cared for him.

He was reminded of the few times he was allowed to go outside, of how freer and happier those times were than he ever had in his first three years trapped inside that dirty orphanage combined.

And seeing this was familiar and yet, different. So very different. He would never have to be afraid of leaving that happy and free feeling behind. He could have it in his room, outside, whenever he wanted. Maura made sure he knew that.

After redressing him in a pair of pajamas, Maura gently lays him in the bed—a bunk bed where the top had been turned into a bungalow tree house by a local constructor—and puts his favorite stuffed animal by his hand in case he wakes up and tries to look for it. Jane watches as she bends down to kiss his forehead and tell him she loves him—it's the same routine every single night and it never enthralls Jane any less.

She'll never tire of watching Maura be the mother she was afraid she'd never get to be.

They walk down to the living room, sitting closely together on the couch. Jane plucks a candy bar from the nearby Halloween bucket and starts to eat it as Maura grins. "You really should've checked that first."

"Maura, I highly doubt anyone that lives in Ma's neighborhood poisoned a piece of candy. And if they did, I trust you to figure out who did it."

She squeezes Jane's leg before pulling out a sucker—thoroughly inspecting it—before starting to eat it. "She _does_ live in a neighborhood filled with an older population. Predominately single women, at that."

Sure, they've seen some bat shit old single ladies in their time, but never once had either of them come across one poisoning children for fun. They sit in silence for a few moments, watching the old black and white version of Frankenstein, before Maura speaks. "I never thought we'd get here."

"What, you never thought we'd be sitting on the couch stealing our son's candy before eight o'clock on a Friday night?"

Maura laughs, head leaning over to lean on Jane's shoulder. "That's precisely what I mean."

Jane thinks about it. Sitting on the couch watching movies was always more of their scene than going out, but the having a child part was the thing she never really thought they'd get. She had wished and hoped, and now that she has it…she couldn't be happier.

"Me either." She leans down and gives Maura a kiss, tasting the coconut from the sucker still lingering on her lips. It's sweet and sticky and perfect; Jane can't get enough.

What was supposed to be a quick, innocent kiss turns into something much slower, much more appreciative and devouring. Bodies shifting, Maura easily manages to crawl onto Jane's lap. Her hands warp in dark curls, holding Jane close, pulling her in.

Just as Jane's about to suggest taking it upstairs, the doorbell rings. Letting Maura's bottom lip slowly slip from her teeth, she pulls back and groans. "We forgot to turn off the porch light."

Maura tries not to pout, but fails. "Trick or treaters?"

Jane nods and Maura climbs off her lap to sit on back down on the couch. "I bought raisins, just in case."

"Oh God, we are _not_ that family," Jane grumbles as she stands up. She knew Maura would try to do something like that. "Good thing I brought _real_ candy home."

Maura grins, eyebrow rising. "It _is_ the healthier option."

"I didn't see you going for the raisins in Mack's bucket," Jane retorts as she walks down the hall to the door.

Maura tries to think of some kind of response, but Jane has her there. She makes a reminder to never buy any type of fruit for Halloween again. At least that way she could eat any candy they had left over without having to rummage through Mack's.

Like she was currently doing.

Again.

….

….

**I strongly recommend looking up Pinocchio costumes because I swear it's the cutest thing! **

**Tell me what you think if you'd like, I love the feedback .(:**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: You're all fantastic! Sorry this is short. **

**Past. **

…

"No, don't wear that," Jane says as she walks over to where her wife is sitting on the edge of the bed. She grabs the soft cashmere and starts pulling hem of the sweater up and over Maura's head.

Maura's arms instantly cross in front of her chest, eyebrows knitting. Jane has never been one to tell her what she can and can't wear. "Why not?"

Jane frowns. She really wishes Maura wouldn't do that. Nothing has even changed yet and she's already preparing for the self-consciousness today's surgery will most likely bring. A surgery that even Jane is dreading; a surgery that Jane wants to wrap Maura up and hide her from. No one ever should have to go through this.

She sighs, remembering the struggles she had with tshirts and hoodies after getting shot all those years ago. That was just a shot to the side, what Maura is about to go through will surely be as painful if not worse.

"It'll hurt to get on and off. Trust me."Jane pulls out one of her loose button ups from the closet and walks it back over to her. "It's not Chanel or anything, but at least it shouldn't hurt as bad."

Maura finally gives the weakest of smiles as her fingertips graze the fabric to pull it from Jane's hands. "Thank you."

That was the last time she talked for the rest of the morning. She packed her bag in silence. Watched Jane get dressed in silence. Ate—well, _watched_ Janeeat in silence.

The car ride wasn't much better. She wouldn't touch Jane at all. Slowly pulled her hand away from every fleeting touch of her wife's fingers on her skin. She let Jane check her in, talk to the nurses and doctors as they got her settled into a room.

Jane sat in a chair by the bed and has been there for thirty minutes, suffering in the heavy silence. She had tried talking about everything, even some of the things that would normally get Maura going on and on for hours. But nothing worked. Surely there was _something_ that would get Maura to talk.

She starts to reach out and grasp Maura's hand, but she stops midway and lets her arm fall to rest on the bed. "You sure you don't want Ma or Constance in here too? I'm sure they'd like to see you before everyth—"

"No." It's immediate, firm. Like she had already been waiting on Jane to ask. She sighs, refusing to look at Jane's face. "Honestly…I'm not even sure if I want _you_ in here."

The words cut like a knife and Jane swears she has to gasp for a breath. She should've seen this coming."I can," she clears her throat, "I can leave if you want me to."

Maura finally turns her face to look her in the eye. "Do_ you_ want to?"

Jane promised she'd never leave her. Not when they were fighting over something miniscule and certainly not before a life-altering surgery. She shakes her head, clasping her hands in her lap as she pulls back from the bed. "No."

"Okay," Maura says, voice cracking. From anger or sadness or just an overwhelming amount of emotions, she doesn't know.

Jane can't handle that. She doesn't want to make this impossibly horrible day even worse. "Maura… tell me if you want me to go. I don't want to stay if that's not what you want. It's up to you."

Maura looks off to the floor, swallowing thickly as she chooses her words. What she's going to say is going to hurt Jane, she knows that. But her emotions are going haywire and she just needs to let them out, even if it's by taking it out on the one person she loves most.

"I want you here because I love you and it would be cruel to make you leave." She looks to Jane, makes sure she's still following. "But part of me wants you to leave because…because I _almost_ resent you," she shakes her head. "Actually, no. I _do _resent you. Almost completely."

"Why?" Jane's voice is raspy and thick.

Maura wants to leave it at this and tell her to forget it and stay, but she just can't. Everything has been building and festering, and is now threatening to make her explode if she doesn't release some of the pressure. Unfortunately, it's going to be taken out on Jane because she's the closest, the one that cares the most and won't ever leave her.

She takes a deep breath and looks back down at her hands, steeling herself against the tears that are threatening to spill. "Because you…you shoot yourself and still manage to survive. You thoughtlessly walk into a basement with a murderer…and still survive," she looks up, eyes boring into Jane's. "But what about me? What did I do to deserve this? I didn't do this to myself. I didn't walk into this without thinking. I didn't _ask_ for this," her voice is cracking and she wants to curl up into Jane and never leave, to find that familiar comfort.

But letting some of that anger feels so good that she can't stop. "So why….why do the odds always seem to fall in your favor but the one time I need them to fall in mine…they don't?

Jane waits and says nothing as Maura looks away from her again.

"Part of me also resents you because…you're supposed to be the one that protects me. Everything that's ever threatened to hurt me…you were there to save me. But this? This is the one thing you can't save me from." She takes a deep breath. "And I almost hate you for it," she adds, voice dropping dangerously low.

Jane reaches out to touch her leg, but she flinches away. "Maura…

Maura's hands fly up to her face, wiping the tears from her eyes as she starts to cry. "I'm sorry. But please…just go."

Jane knew Maura would go various through ranges of emotions and it could possibly get here, but she still isn't prepared for the pain filling her up, searing her from the inside out. She knows Maura can't lie, so this is what she feels. She really, truly almost hates Jane.

At the moment.

So hopefully this feeling won't last long. Jane couldn't take it if it did. But she knows Maura loves her, loves her more than anything in the world. Therefore, this isn't something she's going to dwell on—not the painful emotions and words uttered before something so devastating and horrible is about to happen. Maura deserves to have these few moments of misplaced hate and resentment when she's about to go through something as bad as this.

So all Jane can do is keep loving her and be there when Maura needs her.

She stands, walking to the side of the bed and kissing the top of Maura's head, even though she doesn't acknowledge it. "I love you," Jane pulls back, lightly brushing her hand down Maura's arm, happy that she doesn't twitch away. "You'll do great, y'know? And I'll still be here when you're done."

She gets all the way to the door before Maura's weak, shaky voice calls out to her. "Jane?"

Hands shoved in her pockets, she turns back to the room to face her wife's pale, sad face. "Yeah?"

"I love you too."

Jane lightly nods her head, small crooked grin on her lips. She knows there no need for a response, so she gives a small wink before turning back to walk towards the waiting room.

…

…

**If there was confusion—which I hope there wasn't—this was right before the mastectomy. I just hate that word with a passion and decided not to throw it in there. **


End file.
